


To All the Boys I've Loved Before (AU)

by europa_report



Category: To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before (2018), Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - To All the Boys I've Loved Before, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Friendship, Keith as Lara Jean, Lance as Peter, M/M, Mutual Pining, POV Keith (Voltron), Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-04 15:02:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15843720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/europa_report/pseuds/europa_report
Summary: There were four letters Keith had written over the course of his life, one for each crush. The first was addressed to Allura, written some time in fifth grade, when Keith was young and confused, and thought that because she was kind and because everyone agreed she was the prettiest girl around, he was in love with her. Then, there was Lance from seventh grade, Matt- his best friend’s brother, and Rolo.This is just a 'To All the Boys I've Loved Before' AU





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A mix of a beautiful film to begin with, some really gorgeous fanart, and some awesome ideas from @fuckvld inspired me to write this, so I hope you enjoy it~

Once, when he was a child, Keith believed true love would be an easy thing to come by. It wasn’t something he’d have to worry about, one day it would just… be there. The perfect person would emerge, and he wouldn’t have to worry about them leaving, or about battling to keep them. He’d be happy forever, like it was meant to be, and the world really was that simple.

His views changed as he aged, of course, but his love of _love_ didn’t change. Because love came from the most amazing places. His adoptive siblings, Shiro and Romelle, the man who’d kindly taken them all in. That was a love story, of a familial sort, so Keith knew it was there, knew love could be found even if he’d been abandoned in the past. Love was possible, and in stories, and in his imagination, it was nice. In reality… _eh_. Keith preferred the stories.

It was like how one might visit the zoo. Sure, he’d go and see the animals, admire them and have fun. But visit a zoo without any cages? Mm… not so much. Not at all, in fact. Love was like a zoo, and without the cages, Keith would be torn apart limb by limb, ferociously. So no, no thank you. He’d stick to the stories, which were cages in themselves, living out a million grand tales of love in his head.

The book he held today held promises of a great romance; an intergalactic war, filled with aliens and giant, robotic lions, and within it a love story. Keith knew who he could see in the place of the daring space bandit, with his rebel crew and-

_Thud_.

Keith spluttered as the pillow hit him square in the face, turning to glare at the girl planted in the doorway to his bedroom.

“Hey!”

“Are we hanging out or what?” Romelle asked, looking thoroughly unimpressed.

Keith glared, reopening his book.

“I’m reading. Let me finish this chapter.”

Romelle looked on the verge of arguing, but the clatter from downstairs cut her short. Keith grimaced at the sound of pots and pans colliding with the floor, wondering what exactly Coran was up too. Romelle’s eyes darted questioningly between Keith and then, the boy who appeared at his door.

“Should we… help?” He asked, but Shiro shook his head.

“There is no helping him as this stage,” his brother replied, peering nervously down the stairs. “You can help me set the table though.”

Keith and Romelle’s resounding groans went unheard.

Despite having the cooking capabilities of a toddler in the late stages of motor development, Coran really did try his best. Keith made sure to contemplate the meal as they all sat down to eat, kicking Romelle under the table when she grimaced at the smell. As soon as Shiro left, their adoptive father would likely stop feeling so pressured to impress them with new and diverse recipes, and just go back to making what he knew. Keith hoped so, at least.

“It’s gonna be so weird without you,” Romelle said through a mouthful of food, as Shiro finished dishing up for them all.

Shiro looked at her fondly, taking his seat across from Keith.

“It’s gonna be weird not having you guys around. But you’re going to be fine.”

“Not with _Keith_ driving me to school,” the youngest mumbled, ignoring her brother’s heated glare.

“Now now,” Coran said. “It will be good for Keith to practice his driving. Besides, if we do find ourselves in a pickle, that boy next door offered to drive you. Oh, what’s his name? Ron? Rodrick? Romeo-“

“ _Rolo_?” Shiro blurted, and immediately his expression darkened. “No. He’s not driving them, he’s as asshole.”

Keith glanced down at his plate at Shiro’s outburst, not interested in whatever Coran’s response was. Rolo was… a few things. Their next door neighbour, firstly. He’d also been one of Keith’s first friends. They’d hung out together almost everyday, once upon a time. Then Shiro and him became friends, and then… Keith didn’t really know. They had a falling out, some sort of prolonged fight, and Keith knew better than to push for details when it had so clearly upset Shiro. Only problem was… he’d never had closure. _Closure_ being an understatement. Keith had a crush. On Rolo. He had for a while, probably hadn’t realised it at first. He was one of the few people Keith had really taken to in his life, first a friend, and then someone he’d pictured as more. The daring bandit in his space story, or the prince, or the- anyway, the picture was there. It wasn’t as if Keith would _actually_ consider dating him. Besides his own hesitations, he would never get close to someone Shiro was so clearly opposed to, whatever the reason may be.

So, Keith wrote a letter. Not _now_ , it had been ages ago, when his feelings for Rolo were strongest. It was the letter he thought of now, however, trailing back up to his room after lunch. There were four letters Keith had written over the course of his life, and they were his best kept secret.

There existed one letter for each crush. The first was addressed to Allura, written some time in fifth grade, when Keith was young and confused, and thought that because she was kind and because everyone agreed she was the prettiest girl around, he was in love with her. Then there was Lance from seventh grade, Matt- his best friend’s brother, and Rolo. Keith wrote a letter when he had a crush so intense, he didn’t know what else to do. Rereading them reminded him how powerful emotions could be, how all consuming; it was something Keith needed reminding of sometimes.

He smiled as he read over them now, some ridiculous, others… less. Rolo’s was the most recent, and he kept it til last, frowning a little as he gazed over the words on the slightly folded sheet of paper. Despite the falling out Shiro and he had gone through, Keith had never really had closure with Rolo. They’d been friends for years, still lived just down the road from one another; he wondered if it could have been different.

“Your room’s a mess.”

Keith jumped as Shiro appeared in his doorway, stuffing the letters hastily into their shoebox and shoving it under his bed.

“H-hey.”

Shiro looked tired, sounded it too, as he collapsed onto Keith’s bed with a muffled sigh. Keith stood up cautiously, nudging the box a little further out of sight before coming to sit beside his brother. Shiro had his arms folded tightly over his chest, tapping his fingers nervously against the prosthetic.

“You… okay?”

“Hm?”

“You seem kinda tense,” Keith offered.

“Oh.” A sigh. “Yeah, I guess… it’s just, leaving tomorrow, and all.”

Keith smiled, but he felt a sharp stab of distress go through him at the reminder.

“I don’t know,” Shiro continued. “I’ve just… never not been here for you guys.”

“We can still skype, dude.”

“That’s different. I won’t… I won’t be here to help out, you know?”

“Maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe it’s time for you to go do stuff without worrying about us, y’know?”

Shiro looked over at him, frowning thoughtfully. He’d been an essential part of Keith’s life since he was just a kid; Coran had adopted them all from separate homes, woven their little family together and given them the best upbringing possible. Shiro was the big brother, the sensible one; Keith was certain he would have turned out a lot differently without him.

“We’re gonna be fine,” he said. “And you are too.”

Shiro looked on the verge of arguing, but settled for shaking his head and sighing.

“It means you’re going to be the oldest around here. You have to set a good example, Keith. No more watching conspiracy videos until three am. Also, no more teaching Romelle to throw knives.”

“What! I never did that!”

Shiro raised a brow.

“It was only _one time_. And she asked me to.”

Shiro chuckled lightly, shaking his head as Keith crossed his arms angrily and looked away.

“Also, your room seriously is a mess. I’ve asked Coran to drop some of my stuff off at the donation centre. You should do the same.”

Shiro angled a finger at the large cardboard box in the corner of Keith’s room.

“That one’s for you.”

Looking around his room, at the poster and pin-boards and piles of old books and records scattered everywhere, Keith shrugged.

“I don’t know… there isn’t really anything that can go.”

“Keith.”

“Yeah?”

“You have three identical shirts that all say _I Believe_.”

“It’s so I can wear them a lot!”

“We have a washing machine Keith!”

“Ugh, can we go back to talking about you abandoning us now,” Keith huffed, slumping back against the pillow.

Shiro chuckled, reaching over to ruffle Keith’s hair in the way he _hated_.

“I’m gonna miss you,” he said, before the teen could slap his hand away.

“Yeah, I’ll miss you too,” Keith mumbled. “Miss having someone to sit with at lunch.”

“Hey, you’ll have Pidge.”

“Sometimes.”

“Keith…” Shiro sighed. “Maybe this is an opportunity, you know, make some more friends.”

“No thank you.”

“C’mon-“

“I’m good with the ones I have.”

“The _one_ you have,” Shiro amended.

Keith glowered at him, hating that his brother was right.

“Enjoy it,” Shiro said, more kindly this time. “It’s junior year. Anything could happen.”

“Yeah, I… really hope not.”

Shiro looked exasperated, but amused all the same.

“Alright, alright… suit yourself.”

A pause.

“You seriously need to clean your damn room though.”

-

Their farewell to Shiro went as expected, with Coran bawling his eyes out, Romelle nagging them to finally adopt a cat, and Keith watching his brother depart with a twinge of sadness, half hoping he might turn around. With Shiro gone, things would be different; Keith only hoped it wasn’t too bad of a different.

The first day of school rolled around sooner than Keith expected, and all too soon he found himself standing beside Romelle in the driveway, their adoptive father excitably ordering them to _stand straighter_ or _stop slouching_ or _pose a little_.

“Are we done?” Keith whined, smiling falsely for the camera.

“In a tick my boy!” Coran called, trying to get his phone to focus.

“Does it ever feel like dad came from a different planet or something,” Keith whispered to Romelle. “Like I don’t now, but he could _not_ have been born on Earth.”

Romelle shrugged, daintily holding up her sixth grade sign. “No.”

Keith shook his head, and the camera was raised once again. “Feels like you’re from a different planet too.”

“Alrightly! You two are set to go,” Coran announced.

“Bye!” Romelle sung happily, waltzing towards the car as Keith stared dejectedly after her.

Their father offered him a warm smile, and Keith could swear he saw tears gathering in the elder man’s eyes.

“Just drive safe, you’ll be fine. This year is going to be exciting.”

Keith must’ve still been pouting, because suddenly there was a hand on his shoulder, and Coran was looking down on him.

“Anyone would be lucky to be your friend, Keith. You’ll find your way.”

Keith offered him a small smile, hitching his backpack onto his shoulder before trailing towards the car.

“Thanks dad. See you.”

Coran waved goodbye cheerily, before hopping into his own car and driving off. Keith sighed, setting his hands on the steering wheel.

“Ready to go,” Romelle announced.

He looked to her in the passenger seat, her devilish smirk and the purple and yellow helmet fastened over her head.

“Oh, very funny,” Keith muttered, and pulled off roughly from the roadside.

-

Altea High was the school Keith had been attending most of his life, and while he didn’t have many friends, it was a familiar place with familiar people; he knew who to avoid. Students filled the hallways, talking loudly and pushing past each other on their way to their lockers. Keith passed them all, avoiding eye contact where he could. He spotted Rolo grabbing books from his locker, freezing up for a moment as their eyes met. _To hell with it_ ; Keith waved, deciding if he was going to be ignored, he wanted to get it over with now. Instead, Rolo brought his hand up tentatively, waving back. Keith resisted breaking into a smile, nodding politely in the boy’s direction as he backtracked and-

“Watch where you’re going!”

He collided with someone, a second before he was shoved back harshly, a furious set of eyes glaring back at him.

“Nyma! I’m really sorry-“

“Oh, it’s _you_.”

Nyma folded her arms crossly, staring Keith down snootily as she adjusted a lock of hair. He attempted a smile, but it fell flat with her looking at him like that.

“Yeah, I should’ve… watched where I was going…”

Nyma and Keith had been friends once. Sometime in middle school, when things were less complicated, they’d gotten along well. They’d fallen out sometime in seventh grade, exactly _why_ Keith wasn’t sure, only now he was fairly certain she hated him.

“Nice jacket,” Nyma sneered, and Keith glanced at the red and white cropped jacket he had on, frowning.

“Uh, thanks?”

“Yeah, it really suits you. Like you went to get your hair cut but instead-“

“Hey Keith! Sweet jacket man.”

Suddenly there was a pair of arms around Keith’s waist, hugging him tightly as he received a face full of wild yellow hair. He narrowly avoided choking on it until Pidge drew back, slinging an arm around his shoulder (with difficulty, mind you), and turning on a foot to face Nyma.

“Nyma,” she said. “It’s so good to see you.”

Pidge had been Keith’s best friend for about as long as he could remember. She was smart, and sassy, but when it all came down to it, caring. Nyma looked quite putout by her presence, and Keith had to duck his head to hide the smirk creeping onto his lips.

“Pidge,” the girl said dryly.

“That’s me,” his friend replied, grinning. “You’re looking great by the way, _Nyma_. Love the pigtails, so… _nostalgic_. Like when I was seven that was totally my look-”

“Okay, you know what _Katie Holt_ -“

Nyma was cut off by the presence of arms suddenly embracing her from behind, startling her a little.

“Hey babe.”

She settled at the sound of that voice, and Keith kept his expression carefully schooled as he looked up to meet the eyes of the boy watching them from over Nyma’s shoulder. _Lance McClain_. Keith watched the little greeting go down between them, Nyma’s eyes staying trained on him like a predator. Lance was the second non-recipient of one of his love letters, Keith’s first kiss, the gangly boy he’d fallen so quickly for in seventh grade. Lance wasn’t a gangly kid anymore, Lance looked nice. Not that Keith would ever say that, because he was totally, completely, one hundred percent over Lance. Lance was the dumb jock dating Nyma, and the last ( _last_ , final, end of the line, preceded by everyone ever) person Keith would even _consider_ liking.

“I was just admiring Keith’s _lovely_ jacket,” Nyma drawled, drawing him back to present. “Someone meant to cut his hair but it looks like they might’ve clipped it instead.”

She pouted, faux sadness bleeding from her eyes before she shifted out of Lance’s arms and waved them off. Lance faltered, watching his girlfriend leave before looking sheepishly at Pidge and Keith.

“I… she didn’t, I don’t think that came out right. She’s… going through some stuff.”

“Mhm,” said Keith. “I can see that.”

“Look, sorry, I-“ Lance gestured awkwardly after his girlfriend, clearly uncomfortable. “I’ll see you guys around.”

Pidge raised a brow as Lance backtracked into the crowd, eyes trailing over Keith and his jacket before disappearing.

“Hell of a start to the morning,” Pidge muttered.

Keith nodded, distracted. “You really like my jacket?”

“Dude.” Pidge turned to him, unimpressed. “Would I lie?”

“Yes?”

She gasped, faking offense.

“Keith! You mock me. But seriously, I think your jacket rocks. Besides, its not like Nyma has any right to say so.”

Keith smiled, following easily as Pidge linked their arms and dragged him down the passage, half aware of Rolo watching them go.

-

Come lunch time, Keith had somehow found himself alone again, with Pidge off doing god knows what- probably designing robots to take over the world or something. There was only so long he could bear being in the cafeteria for, watching Lance chatting away to Nyma, his best friend Hunk seated beside him; eventually Keith left the school building, wandering out onto the field to sit on the sports stands. It was nice out here, away from the chatter of everyone in the cafeteria-

Keith stopped walking. Seated on stands, earphones in and paging through a book, was Rolo. Keith considered turning around for a moment, finding somewhere else to sit, but Rolo had already spotted him, removing an ear bud as Keith reluctantly came closer.

“Hey,” he greeted, smiling tensely. “This seat taken?”

“No, just…” Rolo shut his book, shuffling his bag awkwardly to make room for Keith beside him. “Make yourself at home.”

Keith sat down with a reasonable distance between them, nodding politely before dragging out the food he’d brought. They managed to sit in silence for a full minute before Rolo spoke up.

“Hey so… you know how Shiro and I aren’t on the best terms?”

Keith paused, then nodded slowly, watching the other boy fidget.

“Are we… y’know, still good?”

Keith could feel a smile forming on his lips, happy despite the nervous look on Rolo’s face.

“We’re good,” he said.

“Still friends?”

“Still friends.”

Rolo sighed, a sign of relief, and Keith relaxed a little beside him. He was still friends with Rolo, still wanted to be friends with him. But that was it. That love letter would stay hidden in its box, and his feelings would stay hidden inside, because no matter how he felt about Rolo, he wasn’t going to go about dating some guy his brother couldn’t stand. Family came first, it always did. But maybe just friends was alright.

-

There were people everywhere when Keith and Romelle made it back to their car that afternoon. His sister seemed set on recounting every second of the day she’d had, from the details of her friends conversation, to the number of bubble-gum pieces she found stuck to her desk. Keith listened distractedly, glad she at least was doing well socially. He became far less impressed when she fitted the helmet to her head once they were strapped in.

“Really?”

“Uh, _yeah_?”

He scoffed, starting up the car and trying to ignore the way Romelle clung tightly to her seat. He began to reverse, struggling to see out the back mirror; maybe he should have adjusted it before starting the car-

A slight thump, and the sound of someone’s voice- “ _woah woah woah_!” –And Keith’s blood ran cold. He slammed on the brakes, pulling up the handbrake and staring straight ahead, as Romelle’s mouth grew wider and wider.

“Oh my god,” he whispered.

Romelle was wheezing silently in the seat beside him, her hands covering her mouth. If the world had ever planned on swallowing Keith whole, now would be the time. Someone tapped against his window and he flinched. Shutting his eyes, Keith slowly wound the window down, cursing every entity he knew. A quick glance confirmed his doubts; it was Lance McClain he’d hit.

“Hey,” said Lance, leaning an arm on the open window.

“Hi,” Keith replied, refusing to meet his gaze.

“How are you?”

“I’m great,” he said hoarsely. “Thanks.”

“Oh good, good… you know you’re, uh, meant to like, avoid hitting people?”

“Oh. Yeah. Yeah I know that,” Keith said, his voice a little pitcher than he would have liked.

“Cool. _Cool cool cool_ … just thought I’d check since, you know, you just hit me with your car.”

Keith grimaced, still avoiding eye contact.

“Okay. I was just… getting the hang of it, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah of course,” Lance said. “Listen are you… can you make it out of here?”

“Of course,” Keith blurted, glancing at him briefly.

Did he have to stand so close?

“Yeah we’re all good to go so you should- you should go now. Please. Go.”

Lance lifted his hands from the window, palms raised in surrender.

“Sure! Sure, whatever you say, Kogane.”

“Thanks,” Keith muttered.

He winced when Lance pointed back into the car, angling his finger at Romelle.

“ _You_ are in charge though,” he said, and Romelle beamed.

Keith smiled tightly as Lance withdrew, sauntering off as his sister practically vibrated with excitement in the passenger seat. She was still beaming at him when he shut the window.

“Who was that?”

“That was Lance McClain,” Keith said tersely.

He sat back in his seat, dropping his hands from the wheel.

“What are we waiting for?”

“We’re waiting for the rest of the cars to leave.”

“Oh my gosh.”

-

The first week of school passed surprisingly calmly, following the incident with Lance, at least. Saturday night rolled around with Keith and Romelle cozied up on the couch, watching reruns of _Star Trek_ , a bowl of popcorn between them.

“What do you think Shiro’s up to tonight?” Keith asked, close to falling asleep on the pillow he was curled around.

“Crack.”

“Romelle, why would you say that?” Keith exclaimed, sitting up.

“It how Scottish people say fun!” She defended, getting Keith to settle down.

Keith scoffed, rolling his eyes at his sister's antics.

“I miss him,” he said after a moment.

“Me too.”

They fell into comfortable silence, watching the film play.

“Think he’s found a boyfriend yet?” Romelle asked. “Like a Scottish one?”

Keith snorted. “No. He’s the worst at getting dates.”

“Not as bad as you.”

And well… she wasn’t wrong there.

“Hey Keith,” Romelle said, and he knew that meant trouble. “If you had a boyfriend, maybe he could drive us to school.”

“If that’s what it takes, I think you’re stuck with me.”

Romelle shrugged. “Maybe. What about that guy you nearly killed?”

Another snort. “ _Lance_? He’s dating Nyma.”

“So?”

Keith sighed, but now Romelle was sitting up and shuffling closer.

“It’s more than that,” she said, sounding gentler than before.

“Hm?”

“Don’t you find it kinda… depressing? That it’s Saturday night and you’re having a Star Trek marathon with your little sister?”

Keith frowned. “No? I like Star Trek and I like hanging out with you?”

Romelle sighed.

“Look. I mean this in the nicest way Keith, but… I‘m eleven, and I had to _cancel_ plans to hang out with you tonight. You’re sixteen, and I don’t think you had anything else planned. Right?”

Keith stared at the ceiling for a minute, contemplating her words.

“That’s way harsh, Romelle,” he said, pouting.

“Truth hurts, Keith,” she said, and shrugged.

Keith continued to sulk in silence as the movie kept playing, trying not to dwell on her words but failing. He ended up falling asleep before his sister, as the tv played quietly in the background. Dead to the world, he failed to notice when she hopped up from the couch and snuck up the stairs. Keith slept on in ignorant bliss, unaware of his sister pulling the tattered shoebox out from under his bed, never suspecting a thing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the kind comments last time!! I love this AU and I'm glad you do too <3  
> (also I'm sorry Nyma, I do actually like her characters I just needed a Gen)

Monday of their second week back at school found Keith out on the track with Pidge, the pair miserably jogging out another lap as a soccer game was carried out on the field beside them.

“So I think I found a way to make my robot disembowel other robots,” Pidge panted, dragging her feet after Keith and sweating up a storm.

“Uh-huh.”

Keith, who up until three seconds ago didn’t realise robots _could_ be disembowelled, was the more athletic of the two, so slowed down a little for the sake of his friend.

“Yeah,” said Pidge. “I figure if Rover can hack their systems-“ she paused, heaving in air- “then I can override them, and get them to self-destruct.”

“Is that allowed?”

“Who cares.”

Keith shook his head, deciding not to questions his friends morals on this occasion-

“Hey! Hey, wait up.”

The pair of friends faltered, slowing down as a familiar voice came filtering across the running track. Keith frowned when he spotted Lance, dressed in a plain blue shirt as he waved them down.

“Can I talk to you?”

“Me?”

Keith gestured awkwardly towards his chest, frowning at Pidge, who was doubled over and heaving in air.

“Yeah,” Lance said, now that they’d come to a complete stop.

Keith looked to Pidge again for guidance, and found her squinting suspiciously at Lance. He tugged on the scrunchie in his hair to tighten it, not wanting the strands on his sweaty forehead.

“Heard Nyma dumped you,” Pidge said. “That true?”

The small line of conflict on Lance’s brow deepened, and his lips formed something of a pout.

“Didn’t think that was any of your business,” he said. “But yeah.”

“Cool,” Pidge said, and gave him a thumbs up.

Lance did not appear pleased, raising a brow at her until she finally met his eye.

“I need to speak to Keith,” he said. “Alone.”

Keith’s frown deepened, a silent conversation passing between he and Pidge as her eyebrows climbed higher up her forehead.

“Sure,” she said eventually, when Keith just shrugged. “If you need me I’ll be napping in my locker.”

Lance looked shaken by that statement. “Can she actually do that?”

“She’s small and unafraid of the dark,” Keith replied, watching his friend retreat.

He was about to ask what the deal was, but Lance beat him to it.

“Uh, anyway, I… I just wanted to say that… look, I appreciate it, but it’s never gonna happen.”

Keith raised a brow, hoping to convey just how little of an idea he had as to what Lance was talking about. Because Lance himself seemed pretty certain, smug, almost, shrugging a shoulder as he glanced around the field.

“I don’t know… what you’re saying?” Keith said eventually, when it didn’t look like he was going to get anymore of an answer.

Lance sighed, finally resigning himself to meeting Keith’s eyes. “Okay, what… what I remember from that kiss, it was hot. Y’know, for… for being in seventh grade, and- look I think its cool that you think… I have sapphires… shining in my, uh, ocean eyes-“

And Keith did not hear the end of that sentence. Didn’t hear, didn’t process, didn’t acknowledge. Because quite suddenly, all his focus and attention was on the letter, the nice square envelope in Lance’s hand, just dangling from his fingers like it was _nothing. Oh god._ Keith felt bile rise up his throat, a hot flush infiltrating his skin and… and was his head spinning? Lance was still talking, shrugging and making awkward little gestures like this was a _no big deal_ situation. His words bled into a single thread of noise, the colours of Keith’s vision all blending together until it was a blur, Lance’s face swimming before his eyes, because he had the letter, _he had the letter_ , he….

And Keith was on the ground. The memory of a gangly boy in seventh grade and an awkward press of lips against his own, it all sped through his mind like a dizzying hurricane.

“Woah, you okay man? Keith? Can you hear me?”

Keith blinked his eyes open, squinting up at the blue sky, at the tanned face hovering just above him.

“You good?”

“What… happened?” He slurred, still overcome by dizziness.

“You fainted,” Lance said.

He glanced around nervously, probably to see if anyone else was coming to help.

“C’mon,” he announced, grabbing hold of Keith’s arms. “Let’s get you up. Does this happen a lot?”

No, this never happened. Keith _never_ fainted. But his head was still swimming, like the last minute was so full of shock he’d simply erased it. He clutched his head, trying to recall what had happened as Lance helped him sit.

“You want me to walk you to the nurses office?” Lance asked. “Get you some water?”

Keith shook his head, realising he actually felt fine.

“No, no I’m good. Thank you, though.”

“Are you sure, because-“

Lance’s words were fading again. Keith had caught sight of someone over his shoulder, someone moving towards them now, and his whole world shrunk to the look of devastation on Rolo’s face, and the hasty and confused steps he was taking towards Keith. And to the letter, the one clasped in his fingers.

“Oh my god…”

“Keith?”

Keith’s shoulders slumped, every ounce of fight draining from his body because no, _no_ , not this. Not _Rolo_. If Rolo knew, if he believed it was true, and Shiro found out, and- Keith could not allow it to happen. He didn’t care what he had to do, it would _not_.

So right there, in the centre of the running track, impulse had him grabbing Lance’s shirt, shoving him to the ground, and kissing him. Keith barely had time to think about how soft or warm Lance’s lips were against his, how nice they were to kiss, before the sports coach was yelling at them from the field.

“What are you two _doing_? Kogane, two more laps!”

Keith pulled back with a short gasp, his hands still bunched in Lance’s shirt. Lance, who looked like he’d been struck senseless. He was flat on his back on the running track, arms raised uselessly above his head as he stared and stared at Keith.

“What?” He croaked.

Keith ignored how good he looked with a blush on his cheeks and parted lips, patting his chest awkwardly as he removed himself from Lance and stood up.

“Thanks,” he muttered, with a tight nod.

He caught sight of Rolo staring at them, and injured look in his eyes. And Keith couldn’t do it, couldn’t confront him or the letter dangling from his fingers. Without a second thought, or concern for what the others thought, he ran, brushing past Rolo and taking off into the school where he hoped neither would find him again.

-

Keith didn’t stop until the bathroom door slammed shut behind him, nothing but the echo of it and his harsh breathing to disrupt the silence. He plastered himself to the side of the cubicle, heaving in air and hiding his face in his hands. The sudden opening of the bathroom door had him tensing, screwing his eyes shut and praying-

“Keith? You in here?”

_Allura_.

“No?” Keith tried, wincing at how croaky his voice sounded.

There was an audible sigh, then the sound of clipped heels crossing the tiles. Someone stopped before his cubicle, and a letter was slid under the door, perfectly manicured nails and a wrist decorated with little threaded bracelets retreating just as quickly. Keith took a deep, deep breath, forcing his eyes away from his own scrappy handwriting spelling out Allura’s name and address.

“I didn’t… mean to barge in on you,” Allura said quietly.

She was leaning against the outside of the stall; he could see her boots under the diving wall.

“I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

A pause.

“And return that letter, it seemed… personal.”

Another sigh left Keith’s lips, and he hung his head, tucking a loose strand of hair away.

“Allura, I… look, I wrote that letter a long time ago.”

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I figured. Fifth grade, right? We had a group project.”

Deciding he couldn’t bear this faceless conversation any longer, Keith shoved his way out the cubicle, running hands nervously through his tangled hair as he turned towards Allura. She was smiling kindly, dressed in pale jeans and a soft pink jacket.

“Keith,” she said. “I thought you were a great guy too, but I, um…”

She stopped, clearing her throat.

“You… you know I’m gay, right?”

Keith exhaled in relief, almost doubled over with the sudden pressure alleviated from his chest.

“Oh thank god,” he breathed. “Me too.”

Allura’s laugh was short and sharp.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Keith said, grinning sheepishly. “I was… a little unsure in fifth grade.”

Allura shook her head, also smiling. “I guess that solves that problem.”

“Guess it does.”

-

Keith was nothing less than frantic when he arrived home that afternoon. Coran called out a greeting to him, but he ignored their father, racing up the stairs to his room. He almost collapsed onto the floor, pulling item after item out from under his bed, but to no avail. The ratty old shoebox that lived there was gone, not a trace of it left. Keith tore at his hair in frustration, running back downstairs to the kitchen, where Coran was cooking up an interesting looking dish involving plenty of leafy greens and a pinecone, for some reason…

“Have you seen a shoebox,” Keith almost yelled, eyes darting around the kitchen as if somehow he’d find it _there_. “I-It’s purple, and has some alien stickers on it. Five, five alien stickers, and it was for size six shoes, a-and I really need it.”

“Hm?” Coran glanced up. “Keith, its certainly nice to see you too. I know you were just waiting to say hello-“

“I seriously need it!” Keith shouted, startling both Coran and Romelle.

“Sorry my boy, but I’ve seen no such thing. Maybe it went out with the donation boxes?”

Keith’s stomach dropped, his face going pale.

“ _What_?”

“You cleared out quite a bit from your room, maybe you, er, chucked it in with that.”

“Oh…” He felt ill, he felt physically sick to the stomach. “Oh no.”

Keith turned, and bolted back up the stairs. Coran watched him go with a raised brow.

“What’s gotten into him?” He asked Romelle, the youngest child seated on the couch, uncharacteristically quiet.

“Moon day?” She answered cautiously.

“ _Moon day_? Menstruation is science, nothing to do with the moon.”

“Says you doctor _man_ ,” Romelle said snarkily. “But the goddess within says it’s a sacred rhythm that represents the deepest celebration of womanhood.”

Coran stared at her for a second.

“Romelle,” he said. “Keith doesn’t menstruate.”

-

Keith was pacing in his room, hair a tangled mess from his running his hands through it. _The letters were out_. All four of them, although, it seemed like Pidge had intercepted the one intended for Matt, because he had some very confused text from her _thank god._ He could deal with Pidge knowing about his embarrassing crush on her brother in the past, but… he’d prefer if Matt did not. Still, Matt and Allura were out of the problem, leaving only… Keith groaned, flopping down on his bed. _Rolo and Lance_.

What a hellish combination, he thought. And Rolo… the stunt he’d pulled today wouldn’t cut it, they’d have to talk eventually, about how Keith felt. And honestly, Keith didn’t _know_. Once upon a time he thought he’d been in love with Rolo, but now… now he didn’t know. He didn’t know what he felt, if he still felt it; he only knew that it could not happen. Shiro hated Rolo, and his brother was the most important person to him. So it couldn’t happen. Keith just didn’t know how to deal. A knock on the door drew his attention, and he realised he’d been glaring viciously at the wall.

“What… are you doing? Romelle asked.

Keith sobered up in an instant, wiping the murderous look from his face.

“Uh, nothing. What… are you doing?”

Romelle resisted rolling her eyes, leaning against his doorframe as she casually said-

“There’s someone here to see you. It's Rolo.”

Keith’s blood ran cold. It only took a moment for him to spring into action, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and angling a finger at his sister menacingly.

“I am not here,” he hissed, before wrenching his window open.

Romelle simply watched in amusement as Keith stepped hastily out his window and onto the roof, tripping over his feet so he went crashing down into the garden bed below. He clambered with his feet with a wince, muttering a little string of _ow’s_ as he legged it towards his bicycle. Screw the world, and screw responsibility; he wasn’t going to talk to Rolo, at least not now.

The Marmoran café was a twenty minute cycle from their house, and a place Keith liked to go whenever he was stressed or just needed space to think. He propped his bike up outside, glaring at it as it refused to stay upright before storming in. He ordered a coke from the waitress he was familiar with, Acxa, before slumping down in the barstool and glaring into his drink. What the hell had he done to deserve this, Keith pondered, stabbing at ice cubes with his straw.

“Hey Kogane.”

Keith went rigid, whipping around with the straw still in his mouth to see Lance McClain plonk down in the stool beside him. Eyes wide, Keith nearly flinched when Acxa set a hand down on his shoulder.

“Hey,” she said, oblivious to the daggers Keith was sending in Lance’s direction. “Anything for your friend?”

“He’s not with me,” Keith managed to get out.

“Oh, could I get a chocolate shake please? Thanks,” Lance said with a smile.

Axca nodded, walking off, and Keith pointedly ignored the boy beside him.

“So…” Lance began awkwardly, glancing around the café. “Whatcha doing?”

“Drinking,” Keith replied shortly.

Lance nodded, then kept nodding, trying to come up with the words he has obviously trying to say.

“So I actually… I stopped by your house, and your sister said you’d probably be here.”

Keith’s eyes were wide as saucers now, fingers gripping the glass of coke so tightly he feared it might shatter.

“I just wanted to clear things up, um… I’m flattered, and all, but Nyma and I like _just_ broke up, so-“

“Okay, okay,” Keith interrupted, gaining back enough confidence to meet Lance’s eyes. “Are you trying to reject me right now?”

“Well, yeah,” Lance said, squinting at him. “Cause it didn’t really see like it took, back, the first time…”

He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, expression tight with confusion and discomfort. Keith felt a smile budding on his lips, despite how horribly awkward this had become. He began shaking his head, interrupting Lance's rambling.

“Lance McClain, I’m not trying to date you.”

“Well… yeah well you say that, but then your…” Lance gestured to his face, waving his hand around his lips. “But then your mouth, says something very different so-“

Keith grimaced. “What?”

Lance shut up for a second as Axca placed a milkshake down before him, thanking her before raising a brow at Keith, setting his elbow on the counter. And Keith refused to look at how snugly the sleeve of his shirt fit around his arm, how nicely, just focused on the mess of words spilling from Lance’s mouth.

“Okay,” Keith began, realising he had to shut this down before it went any further. “Here’s the thing. I don’t like you. I just had to make it look like I liked you so somebody else wouldn’t think that I liked them.”

Lance was listening intently, nodding his head as he took a sip of the milkshake, frowning slightly.

“O…kay,” he said, when Keith was finished. “Who?”

“What?”

“Who’s this… mystery stud, else I’m just gonna go on believing you're in love with me.”

Keith scoffed. “I'm not in love with you.”

“Mm, that paragraph about my silky brown hair would beg to differ.”

“Okay firstly, shut up,” said Keith. “Secondly, no.”

Lance shrugged, “alright. But what do I do? Like how many people can I tell? Hunk has to know, obviously-“

“Okay look,” Keith said hastily. “It… it’s Rolo. Can we drop it now?”

“Hold on,” said Lance. “ _Rolo_? Doesn’t… isn’t he the guy your brother hates, or something?”

“Uhh…” Keith said intelligibly. “Yeah. Yeah, well he… we were friends, first. He was my friend. Then, you know, before Shiro hated him.”

“Uh huh.”

“And he also got a letter,” Keith continued. “So you can see how awkward and complicated that ones gonna get if he thinks that I actually-“

“Woah woah woah, wait wait wait,” Lance interrupted. “I am not the only guy who got a letter?”

Keith shook his head.

“Wow.” Lance gazed off into the café, a thoughtful look on his face. “You think you’re special, and then you find out he wrote letters to two guys.”

“Actually there were four,” Keith said. “Four letters. So don’t go feeling too special.”

Lance blanched. “You wrote _four_ love letters? Damn Kogane, you’re a player.”

“Please don’t put it like that,” Keith said, resisting the urge to bury his face in his hands.

“Who else did you write letters to?” Lance asked, on the verge of laughing.

“If I tell you will you leave me alone?”

A shrug.

“Maybe.”

Keith sighed, fingers fidgeting around the glass. “It was you and Rolo, also, Allura.”

“ _Allura_? You know she’s gay, right?”

“Yeah so am I,” Keith snapped. “That was before I realised, okay? Anyway, then there was Matt Holt who’s…”

“Pidge’s brother,” Lance finished.

“Yeah. But he didn’t- Pidge intercepted that one.”

“Lucky,” Lance mumbled.

Keith stifled a sigh, already grabbing a few notes from his pocket to slap down on the counter. “Look, are we… good here? Like are we done?”

“Uh, yeah,” Lance said. “Sure, thanks… for telling me.”

Keith smiled stiffly, standing.

“Wait, wait a minute,” lance called, following him up.

Keith looked to him expectantly, and he gestured towards the door.

“Is that bike outside, is that your ride?”

Keith nodded. “Yeah.”

“Okay.” Lance looked to be contemplating. “Okay, I’m gonna give you a lift, if that’s alright.”

-

The drive home was certainly shorter than the cycle, and soon they were pulling up outside their family home, Keith pulling his backpack awkwardly into his lap.

“Thanks for the lift,” he said. “And… I’m sorry about today. For pulling you into it.”

“Hey, could have been worse,” Lance said with a smirk.

Keith made a point of ignoring the way Lance’s eyes trailed down his body briefly, flinging the door open and jumping out with a final _thanks_. He’d just begun wheeling his bike up the path when the car door slammed and there was a hand on his shoulder, stopping him.

“Wait up a moment.”

Keith turned, not sure why Lance had followed him.

“What… what are you going to do now?” He questioned. “About Rolo?”

“Tell him the truth, I guess. Why?”

Lance nodded, thinking something over. Taking a deep breath, he planted his hands on his hips, biting his tongue until the words came anyway.

“What if… you didn’t have to?”

“What?”

“What if you didn’t have to tell him?”

Keith scoffed, not sure what Lance was getting at.

“What do you mean?”

“What if… we let people think we were together, just for a while. And not just Rolo, I mean, everyone.”

Keith did laugh then, looking at Lance as if he’d lost his mind.

“Why would you want that?”

“Well for staters, when Nyma heard you kissed me, she went nuts. If she thought we were together, she’d totally get jealous and wanna get back with me,” Lance said, smiling like it was the greatest plan in the world.

“Oh,” Keith said slowly. “Oh, you want to use me as your pawn.”

“Well, see,” Lance said, rubbing the back on his neck. “You kinda used me first. When you jumped me, remember?”

Keith nodded slowly, smirking slightly as he turned from lance and began wheeling his bike back towards the house.

“Look, you don’t have to give me an answer right away,” Lance called. “Think about it!”

“Thinking,” Keith called. “And… don’t hold your breath.”

He grinned to himself as he dropped his bike, giving one last wave to Lance as the boy retreated back to his car. Fake dating Lance McClain? Please, Keith had better options. Like… like fake dating someone else. Or talking to Rolo. Yeah, that would be easy.

He groaned as he glanced at his phone, spying the three missed calls from their neighbour, Rolo’s name flashing on the screen just to taunt him. Keith collapsed onto his bedroom floor, staring up at the glow stars stuck to his ceiling. There were other options. There were _better_ options. Except… Keith winced, imagining Shiro’s face if he ever found out. _Rolo, you’re in love with Rolo?_ Keith wanted to scream, squeezing the phone with all its missed calls. Pretending to date Lance wouldn’t solve any of his problems, absolutely not. Except…

Except that it might. Dating Lance would mean Rolo wouldn’t approach him. Dating Lance would mean Shiro would never learn about his dumb crush. Dating Lance… _oh my god_. Keith sat up, filled with sudden resolve. He looked at his phone screen, at the stack of missed calls, and made his choice. _He was going to fake-date Lance._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! I love and appreciate feedback of any sort  
> You can find me on tumblr [here](https://jupiters-junipers.tumblr.com/)  
> <3


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